


Lick The Icing Off

by cloudycelebrations



Series: Soft Dick Kink 2020 [2]
Category: Captain America, Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Banned Together Bingo 2020, Banned Together Bingo Fill: Bawdy Sex Obsession, Banned Together Bingo Fill: Too Sexy for my Dress, Body Worship, Cock Cage, Cock Worship, Come Marking, Comic Book Science, Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Forbidden Snacks, Light Cock and Ball Torture, M/M, Masochism, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, References to Rihanna, Relationship Issues, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sam Wilson Eats Pancakes, Sexual Content, Wholesome Vulgarity, chastity devices, penis - Freeform, soft dick kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25677952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudycelebrations/pseuds/cloudycelebrations
Summary: Steve rocks back and forth on his feet, eyes coyly avoiding contact. “So, Sam. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about your fantasies.”“Oh Lord.”This is the sequel to Bite-Sized Delicacy, which should be read first.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Series: Soft Dick Kink 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861948
Comments: 11
Kudos: 50
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dira Sudis (dsudis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/gifts).



> Chapter 1 fills the prompt: Bawdy Sex Obsession, and Chapter 2 fills the prompt Too Sexy for My Dress. 
> 
> This story is dedicated to Dira Sudis (dsudis), who awakened several new/underappreciated kinks for me! 
> 
> Thanks to ZepysGirl and agentmal for beta reading and making this story so much better (and healthier) in every way!

It’s getting late, later than Steve usually arrives home after a full day of SHIELD duty. He’s undoubtedly been doing paperwork and sitting through meetings that would bore Sam to tears, but that wouldn’t explain why he’s this late. Sam is trying to read a damn book for pleasure for once. He is a grown-ass man who is not fretting, just thinking about Hydra and Steve’s penchant for unnecessary danger and drama and televised heroics and explosions and alien mind control, that normal everyday shit. Now Sam’s a grown-ass man getting himself some melatonin. 

He hears the bike pull up and breathes a little sigh of relief. Obviously Steve can take care of himself, but it’s nice to know for sure that this night will soon end with both of them comfy in bed. 

Steve has a suspicious-looking smile on his face when he walks in the door, like he’s definitely not doing anything wrong, no sir, he would never. Even the tone of his, “Hey, honey!” sounds like he’s up to something. Sam perks up right away in his seat, wary of any funny-in-1932 practical joke about to occur. But then again, Steve knows not to startle him into a panic. And whatever he’s up to, it’s more likely to be a good thing than something weird. In fact, he’s been getting better at romantic surprises lately. Humming softly, which does nothing to reduce Sam’s level of suspicion, Steve slowly unties his shoes and saunters over to the couch. 

He’s clearly hiding something behind his back. Steve rocks back and forth on his feet, eyes coyly avoiding contact. “So, Sam. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about your fantasies.” 

“Oh Lord.” He doesn’t even have to ask which fantasies. Sam’s body spends exactly one second wavering between embarrassment and arousal, before settling solidly on arousal. He grips the armrest for moral support. 

“Got you something. Well, it’s for me, but...” Steve doesn’t make him wait. He holds out a small black matte cardboard box, smudged with fingerprints and clearly already opened. Sam receives it reverently. The box doesn’t weigh much for its size, and looks fancy as fuck. Sam holds his breath as the nearly airtight lid takes its sweet time separating from the box, to reveal a satiny lavender cloth pillowing a bright chrome cock cage. 

“It’s not even my birthday,” Sam breathes out, eyes wide. 

He alternates between staring in disbelief at Steve’s face and the glinting metal while Steve chats on because clearly, obviously, this is no big deal. Sam’s soul debates exiting his body and heading straight to heaven above. 

“I liked what you said, so I did some research on the World Wide Web. Found this in an exotic goods store,” Steve says, winking at him. The little shit absolutely knows a sex toy store is not called that, now or ever. “And I’ve been practicing.”

“Oh my god. You’re gonna be the death of me with this thing.” Steve actually went out on his own two legs into a sex store, Sam knows, because he’d definitely want to touch it and see his options in person; online shopping wouldn’t be good enough. He probably perused meticulously, asking sincere questions to a jaded cashier, and finally purchased a chastity device to squeeze his cock into for Sam’s delight and pleasure? And he, wait... “What do you mean, you practiced?” 

“Well, I tried breathing exercises, tried not thinking about you so I could stay soft. Sometimes it worked. And I used the cage a couple times already.” He shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt to give it a try, right?”

Sam shakes his head. It seems too good to be true. “Steve, that’s the thing! It will hurt, if you get hard in it.” 

“I mean, I’ve had worse pain?” Sam’s face darkens. Steve is never going to get anywhere near Sam’s good side going down that path, and he fucking knows it, so he changes the subject very quickly. “The thing is, I won’t be able to look at you, or else I’ll get hard. Don’t get cocky, you know it’s just the truth! So the purple thing in there, it’s a blindfold. For me.” 

“Sweet Jesus. You actually thought this through.” Sam stares at Steve a few seconds longer, like he can’t believe it, then reaches in and lightly fondles the cock cage. It’s so compact, cold, and incredibly smooth, no creases or edges at all, only round, restricting metal. A small lock hangs from the top, and concentric metal rings loop around where the shaft will go. A large, thicker ring of metal extends from the back, clearly meant to wrap around Steve’s heavy balls and press them tightly forward and down. Helpless to stop his own reaction, Sam’s harder than concrete. Even his fingers are about ready to orgasm from the contrast between the blindfold’s buttery texture and the rigid, unforgiving metal. 

“So, how are you gonna fit into this thing?” Thankfully his voice isn’t wavering as much as his resolve to have an adult conversation about a potentially challenging toy, instead of jumping Steve right this second and strapping him into his cage. 

Steve shrugs, pretending that he’s not already hard under his clothes right now too. “Deep breathing exercises. Blindfold.”

“That gonna be enough? I’m thinkin’ ice, for when you get hard.”

“Please, Sam. We’re not actually going to use ice in the bedroom. This isn’t some dirty novel. And you’ll see, I won’t be hard. I can handle myself.” Sam will believe it when he sees it. And he’s so ready to see it. 

Sam’s sure there’s a stupid grin on his face but he is doing his actual best to be serious. “Is there somewhere you’ll need to keep your hands, so you don’t touch it?” He desperately wants to see Steve holding his chest, rubbing his nipples, while Sam licks and touches and prods at him enclosed in a goddamn metal cage. But Steve would harden in an instant. 

“I know I won’t be able to touch you. I guess I’ll hold them above my head, so I won’t touch myself or accidentally try to rip the cage off.”

Jesus Christ. 

“It has a quick-release right here; the lock works too but it’s mainly for show.” His face breaks into a sly grin. “What do you think?”

“Uh. I like it, Steve. I really, really do. It’s just, aren’t you worried it’ll hurt if you start to get hard in it?” Knowing Steve, that’s more like _when_ he starts to get hard.

“Hate to be a broken record, but I’ve had much worse than this. You know that. Practically every Avengers mission is more painful than this.” 

Sam frowns. “This isn’t a pain competition. I’m not turned on by you hurting yourself for me. In fact that would be a turn-off. I appreciate that you’re doing this for me and that you’re willing to take on some amount of discomfort, but I need to know you’ll take my care for your safety seriously.”

Steve looks a little chastened, and incredibly fond. “Okay. I don’t mean to make light of it.”

Sam doesn’t let up, wanting to be sure Steve gets it, “I don’t want sex with me to be a battle you walk into, or something you treat as... antagonizing. You just casually mentioned ripping the cage off by accident. I don’t ever want you to let it get so bad that you even have that impulse. If you run into pain or are risking it, that is a consequence to avoid, not a feature to be embraced.”

Steve nods, looking more serious. “Thanks for making that clear. I understand. Still, babe, I think we’re playing it safe with this device. I’m really not worried.”

“Hang on, this is important. We’re not talking about twisting an arm or a knee here. This cage is going on much more delicate tissue. Do you know how many nerve endings are down there?” Sam’s dick is helpfully informing him right now about exactly how many are in there, twitching in sympathy, and simultaneously so ready to be touched. 

Steve rubs the back of his neck and smiles bashfully. “If it helps you to know, I, um. I kinda like a little pain, when I know it’s not gonna mean a week in the hospital or you feeling upset.”

God damn it. Why is Sam surprised by this? It would explain a hell of a lot. Is he the last one to know that Captain America is a masochist? Hearing Steve talk about his sexual preferences frequently entertains him, so Sam definitely wants to know more. “Go on.” 

Steve’s face shows he’s a little nervous, but he’s always up-front, even with Sam. “I mean, after the serum, I can endure all kinds of physical extremes, right? And during intense moments, like on missions, or being intimate with you, everything in me gets so focused.” 

It's so like Steve to slot together dangerous, violent missions and safe, loving intimacy with Sam in the same category in his mind. Then again, they have damaged a few furniture items permanently in their enthusiasm for sex in the living room. He chose this abnormal life, best to let it play itself out. 

“The serum optimized everything about me, even the control I have over certain nervous system sensations. So in battle, I get really focused, my body is kinda desensitized, and serious injuries don't slow me down much. You already know that part. When it comes to minor pain in daily life, I can basically either ignore it or, uh, if I have the time to focus, I can turn it into a pleasurable sensation. If I want.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“No, it’s true. Nice perk, huh? It means pain can feel better than nothing at all, in the right circumstances.”

“Man, learn something new every day.” Sam was going to unpack that, but he was going to unpack that _later_. He crosses his arms. “So. You didn’t think to tell me this at any time before right now?”

Steve looks at least a tiny bit apologetic. “I’ve sort of gotten used to keeping the serum’s side effects to myself. It’s hard to break that habit now.” 

Sam sighs and looks down at the cock cage. It’s silly to get wistful about it, but really, it means so much that Steve would go out and do this, and bring home so much potential pleasure for them to share. He can hear his therapist in his brain, lecturing, ‘All those nice things you want for your clients? You can have nice things too. You can TAKE nice things for yourself. What’s the harm in being spoiled once in a while?’ Damn it, Dani is always right! 

“Okay. Okay. Well. I’m going to digest this new tidbit and _that_ one too,” he gestures to the cock cage, “and get ready for bed. It’s late. You coming?” 

Steve beams and nods. The fucking danger junkie, reckless jerk, lucky bastard and now, he just learns, a card-carrying masochist… Sam lets his mind go on a rant while he brushes his teeth, Steve cheerfully disrobing nearby.

They finish their separate nightly routines and Steve goes in for a cuddle, typical but never unwelcome. They’re naked and warm, their hairy thighs rubbing against each other under the chilly sheets. It doesn’t matter that they’re both a little hard, it’s not going anywhere right then, just feels so good, so right, to press against each other. Steve’s big hands hold him so firmly, rearrange him, and hold him tight again, in a dozen different configurations, as he rubs his nose on Sam’s neck like an animal. Steve catches Sam’s icy toes between his legs and entwines their entire bodies, striving to touch every part of them together. Finally he settles and hums in satisfaction, an octopus with its nest pleasingly put into place. Sam can’t fall asleep in a vice grip like that, legs everywhere and covers tangled, but it sure makes him feel appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day is Saturday, and they have nothing urgent to do, no plans. They have a conversation about what Sam might do to Steve while wearing the cage, so they have mutual expectations about how it will go, and then Steve gave him a half-hour warning to get ready. 

But when that half-hour is up, it’s clear that even only from that negotiation, Steve’s already way too hard for this party to get started. 

So, that star-spangled bastard puts on the world’s most tantalizing show for him, stripping, and touching himself all over. He jacks himself off slowly, mouth wide open and holding half-lidded eye contact with Sam for as long as he can until the pleasure is too much, until his eyes squeeze shut, his lips curl involuntarily and he comes explosively. Sam’s hands shake as he slides the cage on Steve’s over-sensitive and spent cock and lovingly ties the blindfold in place. 

And now they’re here. Sam thanks his lucky stars that everything came together to make today happen. 

Sam’s brain is a blinking marquee, neon red and flashing: This is actually happening. But his body thinks he must be in a dream, Steve spread out like a buffet in front of him, still catching his breath, silky blindfold the only scrap of cloth on his entire body. Sam adores the idea of Steve treating himself to the softest fabric imaginable, settling on silky lavender simply because he can. He drinks in the view on their bed: Steve’s slowing breaths, relaxed muscles, downy hair all over him, hands resting open and trusting by his side. A tiny smile blooms on his lips when he hears Sam’s breathing pick up. Can he tell he’s being visually caressed and loved inch by inch? 

“Steve, baby. You look like a dream, wearing that little scrap of a blindfold for me.” 

Now, speaking of an inch or two. 

Sam’s thirsty gaze makes it down to Steve’s groin, and the sight takes his breath away. 

It’s still a little damp from earlier. By now it’s short again, practically almost all head, resting on a bed of fleshy wrinkles, overshadowed by a dark-gold bush of trimmed hair that extends down to Steve’s thighs. Some of the hair is pressed flat under the rings, and, he notes, that sweet dick doesn’t even take up half of the available space in the cock cage. Sam stares and his mouth waters. It’s so pale in this state, pink and dull against that shiny metal. It’s freaky and awkward and absolutely perfect. And all his. He feels lightheaded and giddy with the power trip. When did he get so lucky, to hold all of this precious trust in his hands, and in his bed, and do whatever he wants with it? He drinks Steve up, zeroing his gaze in on that soft, exquisite flesh just waiting for him. 

He can’t help but think about the time Steve took him to a posh new Japanese cafe that opened up, ostensibly just to buy fancy coffee and look at the wall art. They ended up staying and ordering souffle pancakes dripping with warm honey. When the waiter wasn’t looking, Sam poked his finger into the fat side of the pancake, and it sunk all the way into the airy fluff. Steve smirked at him and did the same, scooping out the innards like whipped cream. No wonder they ordered plate after plate, each bite of the delicate puffs melting and disintegrating in their mouths. 

Sam is so hungry. Why does Steve’s dick make him so hungry? He leans in and rubs his face on it. 

It’s a good thing that Steve’s soft dick is caught in a device that Sam can’t access enough to accidentally bite down. Because he’s afraid he absolutely would if he could; it looks light and delicious with all the extra skin bunched up and trapped. He wants to thread his fingers into the wiry hair at the base that’s partially fluffed up all around the metal like a perverse halo. The tip of Sam’s tongue slides between the rings and moves the velvety skin around; he tastes for a second what heaven must be like. It’s so cool to the touch, so tiny next to Steve’s flushed balls. It’s exactly like the first time he tried a mochi cake, springy and rubbery, sweet and sticky on his lips until he could wrap his tongue around it. 

Above him, Steve gasps. Sam’s tongue reaches blindly between the metal for more, whatever he can get. He’s hovering above, not supposed to touch Steve very much so he doesn’t get hard, but Sam has to hold onto Steve’s meaty, fuzzy thighs or he’ll shake apart. He’s not sure if this is the ultimate power trip, or if he’s the powerless one, entranced by the softness of Steve’s dick held captive for him. 

Sam is contemplating how the soft head of Steve’s dick resembles a tiny, uncooked mushroom when suddenly, it throbs. And keeps throbbing. And expanding. 

“Oh.” Behind the blindfold, and his heaving chest, Steve is definitely frowning. 

“Steve? You okay? If and when it gets too much, you _will_ tap out.” Sam reaffirms, happy to see Steve nodding along, “and we don’t even have to do this in the first place.” 

“No, no, I’ve been practicing, I can do this... not all day, but for part of the day,” Steve grits out. 

It’s grown so fast. By now his cockhead is bulging against the metal, bright pink and red pushing out against the chrome, as his shaft contorts to the cage’s form and even pushes up the lock dangling on top. It’s vulnerable in a completely different way than his soft dick, pulsing and uncomfortable, and Sam holds the key. It makes his head spin. 

“I think I can keep it at exactly this hard and no more. But it does hurt.” Then, quickly and reassuringly, “But not too much!”

“You can keep it there, huh? Can’t bring it back down? What happened to your breathing exercises?” 

Steve’s definitely giving Sam a hard time, his shit-eating grin not obscured at all by the blindfold, even as he responds truthfully, “Look, you just get me so wound up.”

Sam smiles and responds in kind, “You’re so hot for me it hurts?”

Steve’s panting as he says, “I do like it. It really puts pressure on my balls, being this hard. What if...what if you gave me a slap?”

“What? Where?” 

“Just a little tap. Right there, on my balls.” Steve’s bright red under his blindfold. “Might make me go a little softer, easier to focus on the pain, take my mind off, uh, how much I love your mouth.”

Sam flicks his eyes up to the ceiling in brief gratitude to the baby Jesus who is clearly making this possible and approving of Sam’s life choices. He takes a stabilizing breath and, eyes wide, slaps his boyfriend’s balls in a light, controlled tap.

“Ow,” Steve hisses. “Mmmm, yeah. Try harder.” 

Yes, that is exactly what a masochist superhero would say. His own balls retract in sympathy as he gives Steve an actual smack.

“Fuck!” But Steve is partially smiling, like he can’t believe they just did that. Beneath the cage, his cock looks as hard as before, his balls redder and shifting upwards. 

“Can you. Go grab me some ice cubes,” Steve mutters, covering his blindfolded eyes with his elbow as though that will make this more bearable. 

“Seriously? But not take it off?” 

“I don’t want you to take it off. I can keep going.” Steve wiggles around and then freezes. “Please get some ice!” 

Pararescue instincts activated, Sam runs to the kitchen and returns with two glasses of ice cubes and hell yes he brought a washcloth. He wastes no time applying the cubes to the metal, dripping icy water all over Steve’s flushed dick and soaking the washcloth in the process. Sure enough, it begins to shrink. Dramatically so. Steve is wincing and gripping the headboard, breathing heavily. It’s doing things to Sam. 

His mouth is drying up so he treats himself to an ice cube. Maybe his dick could use some relief too. Sam reaches down to give himself a squeeze. 

Crisis averted and newly guilt-free (no penile injuries on his watch, goddamn it), it occurs to Sam to contemplate how soft Steve must have been in the Arctic and whether they should take a Scandinavian vacation for Christmas. It’s easy to fantasize while Steve can’t lock eyes with him and guess he’s imagining Steve wrapped in dark brown furs, cock out and flaccid in an ice hotel. He feeds Steve a small ice cube, lets his thumb linger on Steve’s lips. This is the best day ever. 

He glances down. Dreams do come true. 

With one hand turning numb even through the washcloth and the other rubbing wetly on Steve’s swollen balls, drawn up like he’s cold or already desperate to come, Sam is getting even more of what he wanted. Steve’s legs are twitching with the effort of staying still, and Sam pokes his fingertips through the cock cage and onto Steve’s wrinkled skin. It shifts, like it wants to move closer to Sam or run away but it’s a dick and can’t make up its mind. Sam knows it only wants to get hard and fuck. It can’t, and that goes right to Sam’s head. 

Steve is audibly doing his breathing exercises now, chest inflating dramatically with his bulging arms stretched above his head. He’s going to crack the headboard at this rate. It’s an effort for Sam not to tackle his entire form, kissing and stroking and grabbing every inch of that strong body so clearly longing for him. Holding back, and making Steve hold himself back, are driving him wild and making his dick jump with how hard he is. He estimates he has only a minute more or so of Steve being soft and limp for him, so he goes in for a suck of that wet flesh, tastes ice-water and pre-cum and metal, Steve’s most sensitive skin laid out and wrapped up just for him. He kisses it through the cage, licks all over the head, one hand sliding back down to give his own dick a congratulatory stroke. This is all for him. Nice things that he deserves and Steve wants to give him. Fuck yes.

Steve’s breathing is becoming distracting, practically moans on every other breath. He’s filling up again, Sam notices, flattered instead of disappointed. 

“You doin’ ok up there?” 

“Sam,” he gasps. His face below the blindfold is contorted in some combination of agony and excitement. “I need to see you. Oh, please, Sam. I gotta see you. I can’t, mmph.” His lower body squirms up towards Sam, then falls back against the mattress. Sam glances up at Steve’s hands, which squeeze each other as though in prayer. Yeah, he’ll be the God of Soft Dicks. 

Sam’s voice croaks out, vocal cords strained in arousal. “You want me to take the blindfold off, hun? Sure that’s a good idea?”

“Oh god. Please!” Steve’s legs twitch and his cock throbs simultaneously against the metal. It’s got to ache by now. 

Sam slips the cloth up Steve’s forehead, breath momentarily caught by the sight. Steve’s gaze is frantic, tears in the corners of his wide eyes, delighted to see him, pupils enormous. He’s gasping steadily now, mouth wide like he can’t close it.

Sam leans in close, nearly on top of Steve but not touching. He lowers his voice. “Now you can see me, huh? Go on. Tell me what you want. You want me to take the cage off? Ice cubes?” 

“Mm-mm.” Steve shakes his head, rubbing his face against the pillow, shifting against the mattress like he can’t feel enough sensations at once. “Feels good. Hurts.”

“Yeah?” Steve _never_ acts this way. What the fuck. Sam’s so into it. “You want to see me touch myself while you can’t move? Hm? Watch me come on that trapped cock?”

“Fuck. Oh, fuck. _Yes._ ” 

“Yes, what?” Sam licks his hand, holds his dick above Steve’s, suspended, ready.

“Yes, please! Sam!” 

Hell, Sam doesn’t need any more jerk-off inspiration than that. Steve’s whole body is shaking with the effort of not touching him, dick red and got to be killing him with how erect it is in those metal rings. Sam’s been ready to come since they started, and his cock needs very little convincing. He moans embarrassingly loud as he finally gives in and gives his cock the stripping it deserves. Just inches below him, Steve looks like an honest-to-God porn star, making gorgeous and desperate sounds, face and body totally flushed red, and Sam’s cock can’t wait to mark that up. He feels his orgasm building within moments, spits more into his hand, and strokes it with all he’s got, gasping and moaning out as he points his dick down just in time to shoot his come all over the metal. The spurts drip down over Steve’s inflamed skin, trapped against the cage, and mix with the pre-come beading on the exposed head of his cock. 

“Holy shit, Steve. Jesus Christ, fuck. That’s fucking hot,” Sam wheezes out. 

“Please, please, take it off, oh god. Please. I need to come so bad.” 

Though his body still feels like warm jelly, hearing Steve begging like that makes Sam get his shit together quick. He triggers the quick release and carefully dislodges Steve’s wet cock from the rings, dripping come everywhere. It juts out angrily, but so beautifully. Sam doesn’t have any capacity whatsoever to contemplate what he’s going to do; he’s stuck firmly on auto-pilot. He strokes Steve’s dick once to wipe most of his own jizz off, and he stuffs that cock deep in his mouth where it belongs. 

Steve shouts and jerks his body so hard he nearly knees Sam in the chest. His hands fly down to Sam’s head and he bucks up hard into the heat and wetness. But that’s just fine. Sam knows he gives great head, and he’s so fucking hungry for it. His tongue eagerly rubs across the small indentations from the cage, sucks and licks the salt and metallic taste off, but there’s no finesse and it doesn’t last. Steve’s a quick shot even when he hasn’t been taunted and prodded like this, curling in on himself over Sam’s head and groaning like he’s dying while he comes. Sam spits it out, lets Steve catch his breath, and dives right back in for seconds. Steve’s dick is absolutely as much of a buffet as the rest of him. 

‘Nice things, all mine, just for me,’ repeats in his head while he sucks Steve off for all he’s worth, basking in Steve’s moans of gratitude and obscene gasping with his mouth full of cock. He’s taking Steve out for so many souffle pancakes after this.


End file.
